


The Sanctuary

by CaptainJimothyCarter



Series: Winterhawk Bingo [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Autistic Character, Autistic Clint Barton, Beta Bucky Barnes, Clint needs a safe space, Clint's vents, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Nesting, Nesting Clint Barton, Omega Clint Barton, POV Clint Barton, Protective Bucky Barnes, Scenting, Self-Insert, Tony's nicknames suck, Vents, WinterHawk Bingo, Winterhawk Bingo: Vents, autistic author, clintbucky - Freeform, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter
Summary: Clint is autistic and he's designated one place in Avengers Tower to become his sanctuary, his safe-space for when he needs to stim. No one is allowed in there, but it doesn't surprise anyone when Clint offers his safe-space to Bucky to use when they're both overwhelmed.Update: Drawing courtesy ofThe Fan Art in this chapter was designed by the Amazing Not-The-Blue
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: Winterhawk Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891774
Comments: 8
Kudos: 122
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo Round Two





	The Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trashkingtater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashkingtater/gifts).



> I'm autistic myself, having been officially diagnosed last year. Writing Autistic Clint has been near and dear to my heart, even if it caused some anxiety in the processes. I never want someone to think that I'm being condescending but some of Clint's thoughts and feelings are from my own POV and personal dealings with being on the spectrum.

_“There you are,”_ Steve sighed, slowing his jogging down to a stroll beside the Omega. “I was worried about you when you bolted off of the jet. Are…” He paused, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as those blue eyes flickered over Clint’s pale face. “You’re going to your Nest, aren’t you?”

Clint couldn't help it when he cringes at that terrible nickname. Yes, he was an Omega and he built nests but it wasn’t the same as his safe-space being called the Nest. _Stupid Tony and his stupid nicknames._ Out of all of them, this one had to stick. 

The Captain was watching him with reserve, not wanting to overcrowd him. Steve has learned from his mistakes of overcrowding Clint during his meltdowns and now knew how to ease him out of that spiral or help him through it when there was no avoiding one.

_“Yeah,”_ Clint replied, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. He knew he was close to a meltdown with this panicking bubble threatening to burst from his chest. “Thanks for worrying about me, Cap but I promise I’m alright.” He tried to give that trademark _Clint-Barton-I’m-okay_ smile but it must not have reflected in that manner when Steve’s lips pulled into a frown. “I just need...I need to stim, okay? I can feel a meltdown coming. Best just to keep to my space for now.”

Steve’s learned not to touch the Omega by now without seeing if he’s okay with personal touches first. Natasha is just about the only one who can touch him without Clint seeming to react in any negative manner. He tries not to screw his facial features up to reflect the worry that’s building up either. Clint was finicky when it came to people worrying about him or trying to help him during meltdowns.

He knew that feeling of people trying to step in and making a fussy attempt to help without asking for permission first. Rather it was him being 5’3 and struggling to breathe in the middle of the street or when he’s 6’0 and struggling not to have a PTSD related panic attack on the subway. 

“Okay,” the Captain replies with a soft smile on his face, “Go do what helps you, alright? No pressure to join us later, but we’re doing movie night to welcome Bucky on the team. If you don’t feel up to it, I understand.”

Steve was nice like that, full of understanding and compassion for the little people like Omegas. Most Alphas scoffed and looked down at Omegas like him simply for their designation, but not Steve. He was one of the nicest Alphas that Clint knows to date. He doesn’t judge him for being autistic or for needing his alone time to dissolve and calm down from the overwhelming situations they got themselves into. 

None of the team judged him when he missed nonmandatory team events or even when he seemed to struggle during the mandatory ones. They always made accommodations for him when he struggled. Like Bruce giving him a weighted blanket to hold in his lap, sometimes even Thor would sit closer to him so he could scent him. Even Tony and Steve have learned to dim the lights during meetings and use subtitles and hand gestures when speaking so Clint didn’t have to wear his aids during bad textured days.

The _Nest_ \- as Tony had so dubbed them - are vents in Avengers Tower that circled the congressional living room where the team spent bonding time together. Clint had first found them comforting after an impending sensory overload meltdown meant he had no time to make it to his room. Tony had thrown a fit when Clint emerged, hours later but after a long discussion with the team about how the vents were comforting, he started to make adjustments to accommodate the archer.

The vents were widened so Clint wasn’t forced to shimmy and crawl on his belly to get around, leaving him open to crawl on his hands and knees instead. The temperature had been adjusted with a constant airflow to prevent the atmosphere from being too stuffy. Tony even thought to add slits so he could listen to the conversations around him. The slits opened up for an emergency exit if a situation did arise. The small area that consisted of his nest was nicely closed in with more than enough room to sit up and move around, wanting to constantly adjust his nest of fluffy blankets. Fluffy blankets and his ever-trusty Bucky-bear. 

While Clint knew there was no truly hiding from the team, this gave him the comfortable illusion that he could be well hidden. 

As much as he regrets not being able to disappear sometimes, at least the safety of the vents allowed him to feel comfortable in his hidden spot. 

Clint couldn’t help but make a face as Steve mentioned Bucky. Bucky, a Beta, had been through hell and back with Hydra. After both Steve and Shield had pulled the man out of Hydra's grasp, he was now Shield’s pet while they assisted him in recovery. Or that’s at least how the Beta put it with a shit-eating grin that made Clint's heart flutter.

They were first introduced when Steve dragged an exhausted Clint into the exam room in the medical bay. Bucky sat on the exam table wearing nothing but shorts and a tank top, his left stump wrapped in white gauze. The potent scent of the Beta damn well washed away Steve’s heavy Alpha scent. To the point, Clint felt like he was drowning in it. 

Bucky smelled like home if there was a word to describe such a breathtaking scent. A musky, warm spice of cinnamon and mace graced his nose and reminded the Omega of a spectacular fall full of apple cider and pumpkins. It made Clint weak in the knees, finding his mind pleasantly clouded with warm thoughts of doting over Bucky. 

He’s never wanted to submit to anyone before. Why now? He packed that problem away for another day and focused on Steve’s mouth moving.

The Captain was rambling on and on about Bucky's promising recovery rate and how they're here for a fitting for his new arm. Soon he'd be able to join the team. Tony and someone named Fitz had started to work on a new prosthetic for him too. That was nice, but Clint couldn’t focus on that. 

Instead, his muddled brain focused on the way Bucky’s shaggy hair was pulled back into a bun to keep off of his shoulders. It left his sharp, silver eyes to take in the Omega, a tilt of his head making Clint’s chest tighten. 

He hadn’t even been aware they were shaking hands until Bucky was cocking an eyebrow at him.

“You _all right_ ?” Clint asked, the pun falling from his lips without a second thought. “Get it? Because you’re... _never mind_. Anyway, hi. I’m Clint. Steve won’t shut up about you. If you don't join the team soon I'm going to shove his socks down his throat.”

Bucky pulled his hand away, his lips giving a slight twitch. His face was serious for the longest minute of Clint’s life where the Omega feared he’d somehow upset the man until he laughed. It sounded like church bells for a man so broad and rung in Clint’s head, being filed away to listen to on a rainy day.

“That’s a good one,” the Beta mused, reaching up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Steve’s told me all about you in the same manner that he doesn't shut up about me. _Oof,_ you hear that, Stevie? Clint's gonna shove your army issued socks down your throat if you don't shut up. Bad idea, Clint. Steve doesn't wash his socks and that vile smell will destroy your nose." Clint couldn't help but laugh at Steve's face turning a deep shade of pink. "Don’t worry, I have some real blackmailing stories to tell you if he starts to be annoying. _In fact..._ when Stevie was eight, he…”

Steve’s hand slapped over Bucky’s mouth, muffling Bucky's words. “I think that’s enough talking for now, hm? Clint, don’t you have to go debrief Hill about the sunken ship incident? _As for you…”_

Their voices followed Clint down the hall as he scurried from the room, trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened here. And why was he so desperate to scent that man again. 

Clint didn’t get his answer until three weeks later when Thor and Bruce were discussing the difference between Asgardian and Midgardian children’s tales. He’d heard the term scentmates before, growing up and especially during his time in the circus. But it was just that, wasn’t it? Children tales to make pups think soulmates actually existed.

_Scentmates couldn’t exist, could they? And if they did, why would he deserve one?_

He smells him before he sees him. The familiar warm scent graces Clint’s nose and floods the vents as he opens the slit to watch Bucky being led into the living room by Steve. His nerves are tingling and that panicking bubble is back in his chest at the sight of the Beta. He tries to calm down by shoving the ear of his Bucky-bear into his mouth and suckling on the cloth.

This was nothing to get worked up about. Bucky was a friend of Steve’s. Just because his scent was nice and comforting didn’t mean they were scentmates. 

It’s starting to drive him crazy not being in that man’s lap and investigating that new, shiny silver arm while scenting him.

Instead of acting on impulse for once, Clint waits it out. He lets Bucky put on the first movie and it makes him want to laugh when it’s a weird film not even in English. Several times as the short black and white film flicker across the screen, Clint’s caught Bucky just barely looking over his shoulder in the direction of the vents.

During the second movie, the Omega just gives up and opens the slits up wide enough to pull on the emergency latch. It opens up the slits enough for Clint to sit on the ledge. He takes his time in arranging the nest and tucking the bear back into hiding before he swings and lands just behind the couch. 

There’s a look that mimics relief on Bucky’s face as Clint settles on the floor in between Natasha’s legs. She wraps them around his shoulders and pulls him back far enough so he's laying his head on her lap. As she plays with his hair, causing him to purr, his eyes flicker over to Bucky, catching a moment of jealousy in his eyes.

Surely he was just imagining the man jealous of all people, Natasha playing with his hair. 

Bruce’s watch chimed twice, telling anyone still awake that it was officially midnight and their last movie of the night was only halfway over. Clint yawned from Natasha’s thighs, smiling as he pulled back to see that four out of the seven people in the living room were asleep. Natasha included. He passed a dozing Tony and Bruce to excuse himself into the kitchen, needing a moment to pull away from whatever was playing on the screen. 

“What? You don’t like _Braveheart?”_

The voice alone made Clint jump, hitting his head on the roof of the fridge as he pulled away. His eyes watered to blur the man standing on the other end of the counter, but his smell alone told Clint who it was. 

_Bucky_. 

Rubbing at the sore spot on his head, the archer pouted in what Bucky tried not to think was one of the most adorable things on earth. Next time he’d make his footsteps heavier so Clint wasn’t startled.

In this almost too-brightly lit room, Clint could make out the freckles across the tip of the Beta’s nose. His hair had been recently chopped and styled, resembling closely to the man in the old, fading photos on Steve's dresser. All he was missing was that blue coat and a shit-eating grin on those lips.

This close _-fuck-_ Clint’s chest was starting to form that bubble again. Instead of panic, it was a flutter of warmth and excitement from the warm scent filling his senses.

_“No,”_ he grumbled when he was aware Bucky was waiting for an answer. “I’ve just seen that movie far too many times. It's Shield and my brother’s favorite.” 

“That’s interesting,” Bucky spoke carefully. He chose his words one at a time hesitating just a second between them. He weighed the words before he spoke them, not wanting to upset the blonde in front of him. Clint was by far anything delicate, but Bucky knew better than anyone what it was like to have a fragile mindset after a rough day. “Steve warned me you might not be able to join us tonight - had to say I...was sorta disappointed at that. But I’m glad you did, Clint.”

_Oh._ Clint didn’t like that. The knowledge that he had disappointed Bucky by almost not joining movie night. He wasn’t sure if it was Omega instincts or just his desire to please people rearing its head that’s making him want to apologize. Before he could even begin to reply, Bucky was speaking again and for once, Clint is glad he is. He likes his voice as much as his presence. 

“He's told me why Clint and I’m not judging you. It’s good that you have a safe space and somewhere to escape to. Safe spaces are hard to come by, I wasn’t able to keep a nest just to myself with all those agents waltzing around Shield.” Bucky was speaking _to_ him, rather than at him and Clint was becoming aware that if anyone could understand how he felt, it was him.

“I’m autistic,” Clint said at once, causing Bucky to raise his brow. “So, I-I need that space, and the team knows to let me be. That’s - it is, - up in the vents. Tony has modified them for me but if-if _you…”_ He waved his hand, trying to find the right words and rapidly failing.

Bucky’s scent was starting to overwhelm him in a comforting manner, but right now Clint didn’t want comfort. He wanted to focus, to talk. It took him a while to understand that some day’s words were hard to grasp and right now, it was one of those times.

_“Hey,”_ Bucky’s hand gently laid on Clint’s biceps, being sure he saw him move closer the entire time. “I know. I...mean, Steve explained some of this to me on the way here and..after we first met. You looked a little dazed when you left the first time and I thought it was my scent. It's _uh_...modified, a side-effect of Hydra's experimentation.”

_Oh._ Clint looked from the hand to Bucky’s face and allowed a soft, gentle smile. His head bobbed up and down in excessive movements, agreeing. “Your scent is intense but it's...nice. You just…”

He stopped and sighed, pinching his brow with a groan. Why couldn’t he find the right words tonight? Bucky didn’t need to filter through whatever Clint was rambling on about. 

“Anyway,” the Omega forced out, gently pulling away from Bucky’s touch. “I-I was just...offering because I can’t imagine any of this is easier...if you want...my...Nest. Just an offer.”

Clint swore he’s never scurried out of a room so fast, going the long way around to avoid Bucky. He's also sworn he's never seen such a pretty smile on an ex-assassin before either.

\--

That offer Clint extended out to Bucky a mere few weeks ago was finally taken when the pair stumbled off of the elevator resembling a train wreck with bruises and cuts littered across their bodies. Clint personally knew his brain was screaming at him and he was in desperate need to stim in the privacy of his vent.

Today has been nothing but one bad thing after another.

You stop some stolen tech-powered idiots from robbing several banks across several cities and yet, you’re made to be the enemy? _Come on!_ There wasn’t even a scraped knee from a civilian! Okay, so maybe he and Bucky were a little hurt but nothing a few beers and hours of sleep couldn’t fix. It was nothing more than a few bruised ribs and a sour taste in his mouth. 

Sure, a few buildings had gotten destroyed in the process because _again,_ tech-powered idiots didn’t know how to use the damn things.

Yet who did the media immediately blame? _Them._ The only two Avengers on the scene at the time.

Groaning, Clint covered his ears in some attempt to muffle the noise when Tony turned on the news reports. Any logic to take the aids off instead was not processing while the bald reporter rattled on. He was going on and on and on about how the Avengers were dangerous to society, that this tech was _clearly_ was modeled after Stark tech. They had supposedly destroyed over a million worth of property damage and -

“Jarvis cut that off, please,” the Beta barked, causing Clint to flinch from the sudden noise. Bucky still hadn’t dropped the habit of looking towards the ceiling when he spoke. He came back from the kitchen, ice pack in hand when he spotted Clint standing dead-still in the entrance hall with his hands over his ears. The agent looked practically sick. _“We get it._ We’re a danger to society. I’m sure the civilians are so worried about abandoned buildings being destroyed.” 

In all honesty, Bucky wasn’t too okay himself and Clint knew that. He’d watched the man bounce his leg the entire ride back to the Tower. He saw how nervous the ex-assassin looked, his hands clenching open and closed in his lap. There was a familiar look of worry etched on his face, those silver eyes constantly glancing out the windows. 

“Swell time for Steve and the others to be away on a mission, _huh?”_ Bucky asked Clint in a soft voice, keeping his hands to himself. He started to sign when he spoke to Clint, a habit that Natasha had gotten him into. Right now, he was grateful for that given his hands were still over his ears. 

“Don’t think they got to choose, they were called away. Fury said there was a series of hits down at...” Clint paused, blinking. _“Oh._ You weren’t...asking.” 

Tony is standing in the middle of the living room, holding what looks like the chest-piece of the stolen tech under his arm. It smells like burning plastic, the acidic smell making Clint's nose burn. The genius's eyes were trying not to flicker over to the pair in the hall, but they did anyway and Clint hated how worried Tony looked. He felt exposed in every manner of the word. 

_“Nest?”_ Bucky asked, moving his fingers again. When Clint nodded, he led the Omega towards the hall closet he'd seen him disappear in. There’s nothing in here but a large vent with a step ladder for easier access. 

Its muscle memory at this point as Clint pops the vent open and practically bolts inside. Bucky tries not to laugh as he’s reminded of the videos of a cat trying to force its fluffy body into a too-small box. The Beta follows behind Clint, letting him get ahead so he could start to settle down by the time he caught up. 

Clint was right, this place was a nice, little sanctuary. It’s much better than any of the rabbit holes Bucky’s ever made for himself. It’s not completely closed in, so his claustrophobia wasn’t upset by this. This whole nest of blankets and pillows was drowned in Clint’s scent and Bucky was doing his best not to purr from the smell.

_Coffee. Lavender. Chocolate._

Clint is sitting against the wall, rather than his nest. They hadn’t traveled too far, just a few yards so they sat in the middle of the living room by Bucky’s best guess. The spot Clint sits in dips down to offer a much wider space than the section they’ve crawled in. One Clint has designated as his best with blankets and pillows piled up and arranged carefully. He hands Bucky a small, touch screen remote that when clicked it causes the slits to open. One offers the view of Tony picking apart the tech at the kitchen table and the other offers a beautiful view of the Manhattan skyline.

“I can see why you stay up here,” Bucky mused, handing Clint the remote back to shut the slits as he settles on the edge of the nest. “It’s beautiful.” He wouldn’t touch and taint it with his scent unless he’s asked to do so. This was Clint’s sanctuary, not his. 

_“Yeah,_ it is,” Clint mused. Bucky noticed how the Omega was still looking at him rather than the skyline. “Sit down where it’s comfortable. You’re welcomed here too.”

The nest was in Clint’s terminology, one of the best things to ever exist. He’s carefully compiled every soft blanket and pillow that seems to exist in the tower. His favorite to curl up with was a purple, knitted blanket made of soft yarn that wrapped around you like a warm hug. He thinks Natasha got it from a grandmother that adopted her after she rescued her last year, but he’s not a hundred percent sure. As Clint moved it to wrap around Bucky, the well-loved and aged Bucky-bear fell into the Beta’s lap causing Clint to flush.

_“I don’t...I-I…”_ Clint tried to snatch it back but Bucky was already tenderly holding it.

_“Hey,_ it’s okay. Even I had one during the war.” Bucky’s smiling from ear to ear as he turns over the once fuzzy bear, wearing a quilted blue jacket that mimicked the one he wore in the war photos. There were aged, stitches of silver around his neck to mimic his dog tags. 

This bear was well-loved given the age and condition. The seams were clumsily sewn back in by a hand that didn’t truly know what they were doing. The right ear was ripped off and awkwardly placed back on, so it wasn’t too even with the left. The eyes were faded and scratched, and the poor nose had fallen off years ago. 

“I was...we were…” Bucky sighed, feeling Clint’s eyes on him. The sight of the bear broke his heart, thinking of a younger Clint holding onto the stuffed toy in a time he should’ve been comforted. He couldn’t take away those memories but he could offer the next best thing.

The Omega looked like he was going to cry, watching Bucky’s metallic fingers gently brush over the stitched dog tags. Without hesitation, he opened up his arms for Clint and let the blonde fall against his chest, wrapping the blanket around him. How could he deny himself and Clint this? The man smelled beautiful and needed comfort that only Bucky could provide. 

Not just comfort that he could provide but Clint _trusted_ him to provide.

Yes, he knew the concept of scentmates. He too had laughed at them years ago but right now with Clint in his arms, he couldn’t deny their existence much longer.

“You what?” The Omega asked, nose pressed against the Alpha’s shirt. His voice was muffled and hazy with his nose pressed against his chest. “You were saying something about _Bu-Bu?”_

If Bucky thought the name Bu-Bu for his Bucky-Bear was funny, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he settled the bear against Clint’s chest and hummed, “I was. I was going to say that you’re lucky to have him. Not that I want to replace your Bu-Bu, but...you can have the real thing if you wish.” 

Oh, such an offer made Clint’s eyes well up with tears. He turned his face and hugged the bear tighter, trying to bury his full-face against the man’s chest. _“Shut up._ Don’t say such a thing unless you mean it.”

Bucky was quiet as he pulled Clint’s face off of his chest, his metallic fingers cupping the freckled cheek. His eyes wrinkled in the corner as he looked down at the Omega and smiled. “We’re scentmates, Barton. I know you feel it too. You’ve been trying to deny it for weeks and so have I, but I think you have Bu-Bu and the fact you’re trying to inhale my shirt means we just need to accept this fact.”

Clint’s laugh choked on the back of his throat, too tired to hit the other for being rude. “I’m not trying to inhale your shirt but...but...” He stopped and sighed, pulling away from the man’s hand to try to pull his thoughts together. “You’re right. We’re scentmates. I think I knew it the first time Steve introduced us. I just didn’t know...if I deserved one then.”

_“And now?”_ Bucky sounded sincere in his question, letting his hand drop to Clint’s lap when he pulled away. “Do you think you deserve one now because I think you do. Everyone deserves their mates Clint and if...you’re so lucky to find yours and keep yours, then... _fuck,_ you’re the luckiest man alive.”

The blonde said nothing in return as he laid back against Bucky, the blankets adjusted around them. Their hands joined together against Bucky’s chest and for once, Clint felt this downright peacefulness blossoming in his chest. 

Bucky was right. Clint was incredibly lucky to have not only found his scentmate but to have one who didn’t pity him for being autistic. Instead, Bucky accepted and would help Clint adjust to this new chapter in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter: CapJamesCarter  
> Follow me on tumblr: CaptainPeggyCarterismysexuality


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